Seven Days With Mr Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  Darcy had little doubt she was reliving it all.

  “After it had become apparent he meant none of it, I hated myself.”

  “You left Pemberley very ill,” Darcy said.

  Anne snorted. “Yes, well, when you shun food for nearly a week and pilfer every liquor cabinet in a vast house, that will happen.”

  Only years of good breeding kept Darcy’s jaw from dropping to the floor.

  “Do you recall how good I was at finding hiding places when we were young?”

  The sudden change in conversation puzzled Darcy, but he nodded.

  “They could not hide the bottles from me. There was always some servant I could bribe and then…then I would find a way to fill my thirst.”

  “Anne, I do not know what to say…” He had spent years avoiding her and any mention of their alleged betrothal, yet all the while she went through a hell he could not imagine.

  “Mother saved me, you know,” she whispered.

  Darcy shook his head. “I did not.”

  “She recognised some serious matter had thrown me into depression. She told me I was not the first, nor would I be the last, to make such a mistake.”

  “She was right,” Darcy emphatically agreed.

  “She told me if I wanted to kill myself to get on with it, but drawing it out accomplished nothing and she would not help me hurt myself any longer.”

  Hardly able to fathom his aunt had said such a thing, he leant forward, enthralled with Anne’s story.

  “I thought about it,” she shrugged. “Food was one thing I could control in my life and spirits the one thing that could dull the pain. After a particularly bad episode, I realised I did wish to live. I regret Father did not see me overcome my selfishness.”

  “You were ill,” Darcy reassured and touched her hand. “He would have been very proud.”

  Anne gave him a sad smile and then drew her shoulders back. “I vowed that you would never hear it from me, unless under the most extreme circumstances. I would torture myself with thoughts as to why I would divulge my shame. I thought perhaps it would be if Mother or Nan died. If loneliness in this huge house threatened to consume me and tempt me again, I would tell you the truth and throw myself on your mercy. Or if anything happened to Georgiana. I had thought perhaps you would leave the begetting of heirs to her. Or mayhap, when you inherited your title.”

  She shook her head. “Really, I came up with many far-fetched scenarios of you believing you had no choice but to marry me, and my explaining why I never could.”

  “Do you think I would not have you because of a youthful transgression?” He hated that she thought it of him. He hated that his arrogance had been a source of self-torture.

  “No, it is not that,” she said with heightened colour. “I did not imagine you happy over the information. But I know Wickham’s designs. He foolishly said as much to me.”

  “What do you mean?” The fear returned and gripped his heart even tighter.

  “He bedded me simply so he could enjoy having me before you. He had always intended it as a victory over you.” She twisted her hands and spoke with increasing rapidity. “Don’t you see? He targeted Miss Bennet for a reason. He must have seen your attraction to her.”

  “But she is here,” Darcy shook his head. “You were correct. Elizabeth tells me she overheard him boasting of being able to seduce one of her sisters. While Lydia Bennet is a shameless flirt, there is no reason to presume that to defile her would pain me.”

  “Would you marry Elizabeth even if her family were ruined?” Anne raised a brow.

  “Of course,” Darcy replied without hesitation. He had known for weeks that if Wickham truly did have such a scheme and attempted to put it in motion, he might succeed. It seemed doubtful, however, that Wickham would attempt such folly. The Bennets could offer him little. He had not considered that Wickham had made a connection between him and Elizabeth. Still, after Georgiana nearly eloped with the scoundrel, he could hardly object if Elizabeth’s sister did the same.

  “And would you have her if Wickham were her brother?”

  Darcy’s jaw clenched at the thought. He would try every other means rather than see anyone marry the man. Lydia Bennet, however, might be silly enough to believe herself in love with him. “He would never be welcome at Pemberley,” Darcy growled.

  Anne raised her eyebrows, but there was no time to explain about Georgiana. Anne fiddled her thumbs. “Perhaps you are correct, and there is nothing to it. I hope I did not distress you for no reason.”

  “Think nothing of my discomfort,” he said. “You are far braver and stronger than I ever gave you credit for,” he said with genuine feeling.

  “Thank you,” Anne said. “The damage is done, though. I grow yellower by the day. My frequent drives in the sun help the jaundice, but nothing can help the liver.”

  “I am sorry I was not there for you,” he said.

  “I did not wish you to be!” Anne’s eyes swam with unshed tears. “You were staid and dull. George was exciting and vivacious. I hated Mother’s insinuations that we should wed. I dreamt of romance and adventure.”

  “Still I ought to have been a better friend to you since then,” Darcy hung his head.

  “Your father died soon after the incident and naturally you had other concerns. I will not listen to your self-pity. Do not allow it to break you like mine nearly did to me,” Anne insisted. “My mistakes are my own. One day you will learn and accept that, rather than taking on everyone else’s concerns for yourself.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall.

  “Now, be off with you. Nan will come and fuss over me.”

  Darcy paused at the door.

  “Before you ask, yes you may tell Miss Bennet.” Anne shooed him away with her hands and turned her attention to a book.

  “Thank you,” Darcy said and awkwardly left.

  He would have spoken with Elizabeth the following morning. On the way to his chambers, he was alerted by a servant that he had letters in his room. He had been neglecting his business and personal correspondence for the sake of his courtship with Elizabeth. After spending the afternoon answering letters from his steward, he turned his attention to letters from family.

  Richard had been given leave to attend General Middleton’s house party in Sussex and would speak with him on transferring Wickham. However, it would take days to journey there and back. In the meantime, he now seemed annoyed at having to deal with it at all. He counselled Darcy that Wickham was no menace to Elizabeth’s family. That the man was prone to exaggeration and would gain nothing from seducing a squire’s daughter. He spent most of the letter ranting about Darcy needing to protect Georgiana from untrustworthy suitors, and that he thought Bingley visited too often.

  Miffed at his cousin’s letter, Darcy put it aside and turned to Georgiana’s. She pleaded with him to leave Rosings. She went on and on about the near constant visits from Richard or Bingley, sometimes overlapping and yet their aunt had not visited or returned her letters. Able to read between the lines with his sister easier than Richard, Darcy could discern Georgiana grew anxious over Lady Darcy’s health and tired of visits from the gentlemen. If Darcy returned then he would be protection enough, and the others could go about their lives rather than chaperone her.

  By the time he finished replying to the earlier correspondence, the clock had begun to chime the hour to dress for dinner, and Darcy laid his last letter aside. He would read Lady Darcy’s missive in the morning.

  *****

  In the morning, Elizabeth tiptoed down the parsonage stairs. The day and night of rest healed her ankle entirely. It sounded like only the servants were awake and Elizabeth desired to avoid her hosts. She had forgotten to speak with Darcy about leaving Kent earlier than planned. There were now five days remaining before she could join the Gardiners. It was not only the matter of her discomfort with the Collinses and worries for her sisters which drove her decision. Darcy had proved more than trustworthy. Her heart raced at the th
ought of telling him everything she had heard Wickham say, no matter how embarrassing. However, she trusted him. While she had resisted telling her father — or any other soul — what she heard, she believed she would never lose Darcy’s friendship.

  Rehearsing her words, all thought escaped her when she rounded a turn in the grove and found Darcy waiting for her. He turned at the sound of her steps on the path.

  “Elizabeth,” he hastened to her side.

  “Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth smiled, feeling some of her nerves ease.

  “I hope you slept well.”

  “I did, thank you.” They shared a tense smile. They had never been very good at bland, polite conversation. “I must speak with you.”

  “We must talk,” Darcy said at the same time. “Pardon me! Please, proceed.”

  Elizabeth stuttered and attempted to give him the opportunity to speak first. However, he insisted she say her piece. At last, she nodded but did not know where to begin. Darcy ceased walking and caught her by the hand when she tried to continue. He pulled her closer to him.

  “You can tell me anything, Elizabeth,” he said and raised her gloved hand to his lips.

  “I know,” she said and squeezed his hand in return. Looking into his eyes, she found a courage she did not know she had. “I have kept something from you.”

  “There are more faults in my character you see?”

  “I have been wrong, so wrong!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “Please, I meant to jest.” Darcy placed her hand on his arm. He kept his hand on hers, imbuing her with strength.

  “Do you recall when I told you Wickham planned to elope with Lydia?” Darcy’s arm tensed underneath her hand, and he nodded. “I told you I had overheard him speaking of it with other men. However…” she trailed off, and Darcy squeezed her hand. “I did not tell you everything I heard.”

  “I assume it was not pressing,” he said. “How can I assist?”

  “At the time, it seemed ridiculous and…and embarrassing.” As Elizabeth spoke, her cheeks turned red. “Yesterday, I received a letter from Mary. She reported Lydia’s increasing intimacy with Colonel Forster’s wife. Lydia hopes she might be invited to go with them when the Regiment decamps to Brighton in a few weeks.”

  “That would be the ideal time for him to elope with her.”

  “Indeed. You also, evidently, recall how I misunderstood your character. We have had many conversations about my false impressions and insecurities, have we not?”

  “Yes,” Darcy said and squeezed her hand. “I would not trade those discussions for the world, no matter the pain and anger I felt at first.”

  “We will not argue about who shares the greater blame.” Darcy again squeezed her hand and Elizabeth took a deep breath before the words rushed out. “Wickham, he…he…he presumed an attachment between us…that is that you admired me and I would ensnare you. His goal was to elope with Lydia after a betrothal between us was announced.”

  Elizabeth glanced up at Darcy, who had turned his head. She could see by his profile that his jaw was clenched, and a vein near his eye pulsed.

  “Is this all you heard?”

  “No…” Elizabeth trailed off and began to remove her hand from Darcy’s arm, but he would not allow it. He raised her hand to his lips again. Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes to escape seeing the anger or disappointment in them when she said the next part. “He thought that after our marriage, he could…s.. s…”

  Why was this so hard? She began again. “He thought he might seduce me. It seemed like that was his final triumph. Your money he would like, but there was something more…something vengeful.”

  Elizabeth’s words ended on a whisper, and a shudder wracked her body. She had spent weeks telling herself a man who had dined in her home could not be so evil, but she could no longer deny it. Glancing at Darcy, his face had turned white.

  “I will kill him,” Darcy vowed. His grip on her hand was almost painful. “If he ever laid a hand on you, I would kill him.”

  Elizabeth attempted to pull her hand free, and Darcy finally released his hold. “Forgive me. Forgive me,” he muttered.

  He took several steps away from Elizabeth. She could see anger evident on every feature. Now that she knew him so well, she no longer feared it was directed at her. She watched him pace for several minutes before it occurred to her that he should not bear alone whatever burden now tortured him. Elizabeth approached and grabbed his hand, bringing him to the present.

  “What troubles you?” She asked before raising his hand to her lips. “You can tell me anything.”

  Darcy’s features softened with her words and gesture. Elizabeth’s heart fluttered at her effect on him.

  Darcy took her by the hand, and led her to the fallen tree they had sat at days ago. Once he settled his coat on the tree and saw that she was sitting, he took her hands in his. “I have many things to explain, but I do not have much time. Please believe me that while I may have been foolish, blind, too reserved, and even arrogant, I was never malicious. I never would have wished for anyone to be hurt by Wickham, the least of all your family.”

  “I know,” she squeezed his hands in return.

  “When I had explained there was a young lady that Wickham attempted to elope with last summer, you did not press for details, and I did not divulge them. I had also said that Wickham was capable of plotting. The truth is…the lady he selected had a very close relationship with me. It was…” He paused, and Elizabeth saw his throat work. “It was my sister.”

  “Georgiana!” Elizabeth could not contain her shock. In her few interactions with the girl, she was very shy and scarcely older than Lydia.

  “Please do not think less of her—”

  “No, I would never!”

  “He preyed on her childhood friendship with him while she was on holiday at Ramsgate. However, I always believed he desired revenge even more than her thirty thousand pounds. Now, I know for certain.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Yesterday, after you returned to the parsonage, Anne said she believed you disliked her. I assured her that you must have only been prejudiced due to Wickham. Then…she made the most shocking confession.”

  Elizabeth listened in silence. While Darcy spoke, she could feel his love and compassion for his relations. How many others would have cast off a foolish sister? Additionally, that a sheltered young lady like Anne de Bourgh could have something to say even more shocking than nearly eloping with a steward’s son, stunned Elizabeth.

  “I fear this may not be fit for a lady’s ears.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Spare me the chivalry. I heard worse from Wickham, I am sure.”

  “You are correct,” Darcy nodded. “Wickham seduced Anne when she was sixteen.” He said matter of factly.

  “No!” Elizabeth gasped.

  “Yes, and there is far more about that situation which I could explain later, but she said that Wickham had told her he meant to have her before we wed.”

  “Where?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Where did he seduce Anne? Georgiana’s involvement happened at Ramsgate. I assume you did not accompany her?”

  “No, no. She went with her companion, who I later learnt had a connection to Wickham. However, he seduced Anne at Pemberley. He must be adept at avoiding chaperones.”

  “Exactly! And so, Lydia may be unsafe even at Longbourn.” Elizabeth glanced around. “Consider how often we have met unaccompanied. We must leave for London and send for Lydia as soon as possible.”

  “I agree, and on that subject, my aunt has requested my presence.”

  “Immediately?”

  “Yes, I must depart this morning. She has been quite unwell.”

  “I hope it is nothing serious,” Elizabeth said knowing that at her age illnesses often were.

  Darcy dipped his head. “I fear it might be.” He squeezed her hands again. “Let us not worry about such things. Will you accompany me to London?�
��

  “Thank you. I—”

  “I know you have not been keen on the idea before, but we have very few choices now. A maid has not been arranged yet, and Richard has my carriage. Lady Catherine’s coach broke an axle slipping in mud after returning you to the parsonage yesterday. Anne has offered her phaeton. The open carriage should lend propriety. If you refuse, however, you could go by post, and I will follow on horse.”

  “No, that will not be necessary. Miss de Bourgh is very generous to offer the phaeton.”

  “I will send an express ahead to my house in London. Should you like to write the Gardiners?”

  Elizabeth agreed, and they then separated. While Darcy made arrangements at Rosings, Elizabeth explained to Charlotte that she had received an important letter from her relations. Mr. Collins disliked the idea of her driving with Darcy but neither could he gainsay Lady Catherine’s nephew. Charlotte frowned at her the entire time she assisted in packing her trunk.

  “I am sorry you have to leave early, Eliza,” Charlotte said. “I hope you had an enjoyable visit. It has been a pleasure to have my own home and expose my old friends to superior company. You must return, perhaps at a different time when there are fewer guests at Rosings?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

  Elizabeth replied neutrally and gave her friend a perfectly cordial adieu, but her heart was not in it. Perhaps it was Charlotte’s marrying Collins, but something between them had altered forever. Darcy arrived punctually and handed Elizabeth into the carriage, despite Mr. and Mrs. Collins’ concerns over rain. Soon, they were bound for London.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dearest Niece—

  Have you read Mr. Gibbon’s volume of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire? How interesting that he publishes it now.

  I have heard many of our friends are featured in an engraving by an artist named Richard Samuel in which he names them the “Nine Living Muses of Great Britain.” We are all in an uproar for nobody sat for this drawing and many say they cannot recognise a soul.

  Give dearest A kisses from my girls and me.